When It Costs
by Moxie-Proxie
Summary: You like to think you’re a mean old man, but you care about us all  even when it costs you. [Post Serenity]


He's sitting in the pilot's seat staring into the black, when he hears the soft tread of her feet on the floor. There is of an less assassin's stealth, and more the grace of a dancer in her steps now. As the months wear on the machine slowly fades away and reveals the light, happy girl waiting beneath. He won't admit it to anyone just yet, but he's grown fond of their wide-eyed ballerina. His little albatross.

Slowly, Mal turns to her. She looks so different now. She's gotten her own clothes, little by little she's becoming her own person. Though she still mimics her best-friend in many ways, clothes being one, today she's wearing a brown tank-top from Kaylee with a pair of green baggy cargos. Her feet are still bare. She hates shoes, says she can't hear Serenity without the feel metal on her skin. Mal can't blame her. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail that curls down the nape of her neck, her big eyes shine with River-patented wonder and mischief. She looks young and delicate... beautiful.

"Beauty in the breakdown," she smiles a knowing little smile he can't help but return, "I won't tell Simon you think I'm beautiful. He might hurt you."

At that he has to chuckle, they've built a relationship over these months, he and River. Pilot and copilot [though he will admit to himself that he probably got demoted to copilot the minute she took to the controls. And in her mixed up way, she knows him almost as well as another woman on his boat.

"You like to think you're a mean old man, but you care about us all - even when it costs you."

Her words strike him off center, especially on a day like today, and he's not sure how to respond to her announcement of his sudden sense of chivalry.

"You know, young lady, sometimes I wish you still spoke in riddles."

She beams, "No you don't. You like me sane, you like that I am me now. That I'm River and not a weapon."

He turns back to the controls, a teasing smile tugging at his mouth, "It is nice that you finally stopped talkin' in third person. Makes you sound a whole lot less crazy."

"I'm not broken anymore, no need for games."

She curls up in her seat - Wash's old seat - and as much as it tugs his heart to see someone else there, he knows it's right. Wash always seemed to have a soft-spot for her, an in some undefinable way, he knows his old friend would be proud she'd come this far.

"I can't be him for you, and you can't be him for her."

"I'm not tryin'-" But the words die off when she tilts her head just so, dark eyes narrowing as if to say, 'I can read your mind, remember?' "I'm not..." he trails off.

Idly she picks up one of the plastic dinosaurs that still stand in guard and memory over the console, caressing it tenderly. He was going to put them away, didn't see much sense in having clutter about. But when it came down to it - when he actually went and got the box - he didn't have the heart to. Just like he didn't have the heart to take the cross off the wall in Book's old room, or remove the Bible tucked kindly away in the bed-side drawer.

"The reminders are comforting, lost but not forgotten."

He nods, looking out into the star-field. His thoughts idle over Zoë and the baby, he hadn't exactly said the words but he knew that - if Zoë wanted - Inara knew doctors that could do things to make it all go away.

"She won't kill the memory." Once again River senses his thoughts, "She won't give away what Wash left her. She loves her already, even through the fear."

"Her?" Mal's gaze snaps back to her on the word, "How could-"

River just smiles and taps her temple, as if Mal is silly for asking, "A little girl with eyes like the pale blue sky..."

Mal nods, not having the words to speak over the lump in his throat. He doesn't know how she does it, but the girl seems to tap right into every emotion he tries to keep so close.

"You love her." She pauses, stands to walk out, "You love her, not like a husband - like a brother. With devotion. You love us all like that. Except Inara," she grins knowingly, "you love Inara with fire."

Still grinning she walks out and when he can't see her back anymore, he presses a hand to his cheek, feels the heat, "Gorammit all..."

Her laughter echos down the hall as he sets a new course, and tries not to smile. Too much.


End file.
